


Lessons in Hand-holding and Hugging

by manamune (orphan_account)



Series: Lessons in Teamwork and Focus [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Developing Relationship, M/M, OT5 Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-23
Updated: 2016-08-23
Packaged: 2018-08-10 16:25:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7852483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/manamune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a mistake from Keith in the battlefield causes Pidge to get hurt, he withdraws from the team, spending his days overworking himself in the training room.</p><p>Enter: Hunk, armed with the power of love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lessons in Hand-holding and Hugging

**Author's Note:**

  * For [molii](https://archiveofourown.org/users/molii/gifts).



After Pidge was sent to the infirmary due to battle injuries, everything changed.

Not because she wouldn’t recover; she did, quickly, in fact, all while eating good food and lounging in bed. It was like a vacation, almost. In fact, Hunk was pretty sure getting put on the bench from fighting was a stress reliever more than anything else.

No, it wasn’t because of Pidge’s injuries.

It was because of Keith.

***

No one blamed him. He couldn’t have known that Pidge would be caught out by the Galra when he ran out of the room. Hunk would fight anyone if they thought otherwise. It wasn’t Keith’s fault, not in the slightest. 

Except, for some reason, Keith seemed to think it was.

Shiro came into the room holding a cup of coffee and his pants rolled up to his knees. It was barely seven o’clock and his hair was perfect. “Keith not here again?”

Bringing his feet down from the table before Shiro could scold him, Lance twirled his spoon around in his goop. “Nope.”

Hunk glanced at the empty doorframe that lead to the direction of Keith’s room. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear when he got upset. He was used to that by now. Retreating when uncertain seemed to be drilled into his survival instincts. 

But he still had a viable reason to be worried. There’d never been a situation as bad as this one. Even if Pidge was fine, she was one of Keith’s valued friends, one of his only friends, and it had to hurt to be the one to cause her pain.

Shiro sighed and sat down on the opposite couch. “I tried to talk to him last night, but he brushed me off and told me to get some rest. He’s being stubborn.”

“So, he’s acting like normal?” Lance snorted, but it lacked humour. “He’s going to hurt himself at this rate.”

“If he hasn’t already,” Hunk said miserably. The worst part was that it was most likely true. Not any significant damage, but at least emotionally. “Shiro, why don’t you try again?”

“I think he feels pressured when I appear.” Shiro took another long swig of his drink, forehead puckered with stress.

“What about Allura?” Lance suggested, sitting up straighter.

“She tried to talk to him yesterday at lunch, but he was barely giving more than one-word answers.”

Hunk looked down at his feet, chewing on the inside of his cheek in thought. The image of Keith alone in the training room, fighting for hours on end and beating himself up for any small mistakes, was too vivid. It scared him a little how easily he could conjure the scene in his head.

“Lance, have you gone?” he asked.

“Me? Hell no! He’d probably slice my head off.”

“That’s not true.” Shiro rolled his eyes, setting his mug down. “It’s a good idea. Why don’t you go after breakfast?”

Lance looked helplessly between Shiro and Hunk. Hunk shrugged, smiling sheepishly. It was a good idea, obviously, else he wouldn’t have suggested it, but it made sense, too. Keith got ridiculous ideas into his head that were dangerous; Lance was good at making him realize how reckless they were.

“Fine,” Lance groaned. “But only because I’m starting to miss one-upping his scrawny ass.” 

Shiro grinned. “Sure,” he said dubiously.

***

Hunk was tinkering with the ship’s cooling system when Lance pushed open the door, sitting himself down on the floor.

“Ow!” he yelped, lifting himself off. “Why are there nails everywhere?”

“Oops,” Hunk snickered. “They’re from the board that I took off the wall. Pass them here?”

Lance looked back at him, unamused, and rolled the nails towards him. Hunk perched them on the nearby table so they wouldn’t roll away again.

“I do not deserve that after what I just went through,” Lance grumbled as he sat down again, rubbing his behind.

“Talking to Keith didn’t go well?” Hunk squinted at the wires on the wall. 

Lance groaned, head knocking against the wall. “He basically ignored me. He wouldn’t even listen to me when I told him how stupid he was being!”

Hunk looked over his shoulder at him. Lance was genuinely upset, waving his arms animatedly, his face getting red from disappointment. They were all beginning to take a toll from Keith’s self-imposed absence. 

“Maybe Shiro should try again,” Hunk said.

“Maybe you should try,” Lance shot back. Hunk’s fingers paused over the wires.

“Hah,” he laughed. “You think he wants to talk to me?”

Lance raised an eyebrow at him. “Out of everyone, you’re probably the best for that. Cheering people up, I mean.”

Gnawing at his lower lip, he dropped his hands to his sides. “I mean—” He wanted to help. He just wasn’t sure if it would work. Wasting Keith’s time would just annoy him further, and Hunk was sure he was already in a bad mood from everyone pestering him. “I can try.”

“I think he just needs a shoulder to cry on or something.”

“He wants to be left alone.” Hunk turned back to the wall and began fiddling with the wires again absently. “I’ll talk to him, but I don’t know if it’ll help any.”

“Yeah, yeah, big guy. Just try, will you?”

***

It was almost a relief, to see Keith’s face. It’d only been four days, but it’d felt like forever since he’d seen him.

Hunk had to admit that Keith had become an irreplaceable part of his life. It wasn’t strange, but it hadn’t been what he’d expected a year ago when they’d ran into him for the first time.

Then again, he hadn’t expected to be a defender of the universe, so being friends with Keith, who was slightly brooding but kind, wasn’t that unusual.

“Hey.” He slid through the entrance of the training room. Keith stilled, hands freezing in the air, mid-punch towards the dummy. Hunk smiled fondly. “How long have you been in here?”

Keith ran a hand through his hair and turned around. He looked more than his usual tired. He looked exhausted, the bags under his eyes deep and dark. “Long enough.” His cheeks were red from fatigue.

“Just came to check on you,” Hunk said, stopping in front of him. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. 

“Did Shiro ask you to?” Keith snarked, then laughed, crossing his arms. “Believe it or not, I’m fine. I just want to practice.”

“Nope, no Shiro-urging sent me here.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Keith turned back to the dummy, unwrapping the bandages that were around his knuckles.

Hunk stepped to his side, watching him. Thankfully, Keith wasn’t bleeding much, but his knuckles were swollen. His smile twisted into a frown and he reached out, grabbing Keith’s wrist.

“Hunk—”

“You’re hurt,” Hunk mumbled, looking over the entirety of Keith’s hand. He knew, logically, that Keith was strong, even stronger than he was at fighting. He didn’t have as much muscle mass, but he was agile and tactical. But that didn’t stop the anxiety that came when he saw Keith hurt, even if Keith could take it with ease.

“Not really.” Keith squirmed his wrist out of Hunk’s grasp. “It’s not a big deal. I can clean it myself.”

Hunk’s shoulders fell. “You don’t have to. Wait, let me just grab the first aid kit.”

Keith scowled, but he didn’t stop Hunk from grabbing the kit. Opening it up, he noted the items inside: a half-full bottle of alcohol, cotton pads, a roll of gauze that was almost gone. It got restocked every week, so Keith had, at least, been taking care of himself while he was locked in here.

He wetted one of the cotton pads with the alcohol and then put it over the back of Keith’s hand. Keith jerked away, gritting his teeth.

“Keith,” he whined. “Stay still.”

“You’re the one who wanted to do this,” Keith muttered. His fingers shook as Hunk ran the cotton pad over the rest of his hand. There were a few cuts on his palm that were just beginning to scab over.

He patted it all down with another fresh cotton pad, then dumped them both in the garbage bag. “Done.”

Keith shook his wrists, huffing. “Is that all?”

Hunk knew not to take Keith’s insistence that he leave as a personal offense. 

“I brought you some food, too. Real food, not the bad stuff that Coran’s been bringing you.” 

“I’m not hungry,” Keith said immediately. Hunk ignored him and picked up the bag he’d dropped by the door. It was filled to the brim with all of Keith’s favourite foods. They weren’t fresh, but food never seemed to expire in Allura’s weird alien fridges anyways. 

“I’ll just leave it here.” Hunk set it down right by Keith’s feet. “You’ll feel better if you eat.”

After nudging the bag towards him with his foot, Hunk went to the door. He paused, waiting to see if Keith would reply.

When he didn’t, Hunk continued, “It wasn’t your fault.”

Quietly, Keith picked up the bag and looked inside. Hunk smiled and left.

***

“So, how’d it go?” Lance asked later when they were eating dinner.

“How did what go?” Allura asked, scooping a healthy amount of goop into her mouth.

Shiro eyed Hunk, propping his head up with his hand. “Hunk went to go visit Keith.”

“Ah,” Allura hummed. “I hope he realizes that in the case of an emergency, he would still be required. He can’t hole himself up in there forever.”

“Emergency? We’re perfectly safe here.” Lance poured more goop into his plate, then coughed. “Unless that was a threat. Oh my god, she’s threatening us.”

“I did no such thing,” Allura huffed. “I’m simply saying that, while I absolutely don’t mind if he takes time for himself, being alone for such an extended period of time can only be detrimental to your teamwork that’s necessary for forming Voltron.”

“She’s right,” Shiro said.

“You always say she’s right!”  


Lance shot Hunk a pitiful, terrified look. Hunk rolled his eyes but grinned, kicking Lance in the leg.

“I gave him some food and helped bandage up his hand,” he said, chewing on his goop. He wondered if Keith was sitting on the floor of the training room, eating, or at least picking at his food. His heart hurt to think about him fighting with the dummy nonstop. He needed a break.

Whistling, Lance kicked Hunk back. “You must have a magic touch, Hunk. That’s more than I got out of him.”

“Me as well,” Allura commented, clearly impressed. 

“You were probably too pushy, Lance.” Hunk moved his leg away, thinking of Lance trying to drag Keith out of the room forcefully. “And he was probably overwhelmed when you and Shiro tried to talk to him,” he directed at Allura.

“Perhaps,” Allura said. “I wonder.”

***

The next morning, when Hunk woke up, he knew something was off.

Mainly because Keith was sitting at the foot of his bed, staring at him.

“Uh.” Hunk blinked groggily, trying to adjust his eyes to the sudden influx of the bright lights of his room. “Hi?”

Keith’s head snapped up; his eyes widened for a moment before they relaxed. He rolled his shoulders and shifted to face Hunk, legs crossed. “Hi.”

He was in his training uniform, still, but with his signature jacket on again. His hair was messy and his skin was pale, but he looked Hunk square in the eyes. He looked exhausted still, but it was clear that he had some kind of purpose for breaking into Hunk’s room. 

“What’s up?” Hunk asked as casually as possible, sitting up with one arm on the bed. He rubbed his eyes. 

“I need.” Keith took a deep breath. “I need your help.”

“Yeah? I mean—sure, I’ll always help you. What is it?”

Keith’s nerves were written all over him, from the way he fiddled with the sheets to the tongue that poked out to wet his lips. He didn’t verbally answer, but he held out his hand and pulled down his glove. 

“Oh,” Hunk whispered.

There was a long scar running down the back of Keith’s hand. He must’ve nicked himself with his sword, and while it wasn’t deep enough to cause any lasting damage, it had to have hurt. It was far worse than the ones Hunk had treated yesterday.

“Can you help?” Keith asked.

“Of course.” Hunk scrambled to get off the bed and find the first aid kit that was somewhere in his room. He would’ve cleaned up if he knew Keith was coming. Kicking aside a pile of dirty clothing, he found it underneath a bag of books. “As I said, always.”

Keith stayed on the bed, using his glove to catch the blood that dripped over his wrist. Hunk hurried back, opening the kit on his bed. 

“Okay, uh…” He wracked his brain to remember his health training from the Academy. It wasn’t his specialty, but he knew enough to patch Keith up. Probably. “Do you want it cleaned, or…”

“If you can stop it from bleeding, that’d be nice,” Keith said, but not in a way that was pressuring. He was staring down at the sheets, now, avoiding Hunk’s eyes.

“Yeah, okay,” Hunk said. He worked slowly to fix it; numbing the area first with some alien gel, then starting to clean it. “Have you been keeping an eye on the other ones?” There were a lot of items in his room’s kit that weren’t in the one in the training room. He hadn’t noticed before, since he had nothing to compare it too.

Keith nodded.

“Well, that’s good,” Hunk continued. He kept talking if only to distract Keith from the sensation of him patching the wound up. “Did you eat?”

“Yeah. Thanks for the food.”

Hunk’s smile grew bigger. He shouldn’t be so happy when Keith was in pain and bleeding over his bed, but he couldn’t help it. Getting through to Keith felt like the equivalent of getting a feisty animal to open up. “Good!”

“You didn’t have to bring it, though. I said it earlier, but… I’m not dying or anything.” He looked at his hand, then winced. “I just wanted to be alone.”

“That’s okay,” Hunk said, not very helpfully. “Everyone’s just worried. You’re our friend.”

Keith’s cheeks coloured, as they always did when Hunk referred to them as friends. He would’ve thought Keith would be used to it by now. 

“It’s not your fault. Pidge doesn’t blame you, obviously. You should go visit her, she’s probably in her room eating exotic alien chocolates.”

Keith stifled a laugh, quiet and airy. Hunk paused, listening. It was a nice sound, especially from someone who hadn’t laughed a whole lot lately. “I know it’s not my fault.”

Quickly continuing his work, he tilted his head. “You don’t need to hide from us.”

“I’m not hiding.” Keith stopped laughing, crossing his other arm over his middle. “I told you, I just… needed to be alone.”

“Then why are you beating yourself up over it?” Hunk asked sincerely, gesturing towards his hand. Keith pointedly didn’t look, but he sighed. “You’re already better than like, every Galra soldier we’ll face. You don’t need to train so much.”

“Because I don’t want it to happen again. It wasn’t my fault but it was still my mistake.” Keith sounded angry. His fingers curled over his side. 

Hunk ran another cotton pad over Keith’s wound one last time, but it was well on the way to recovery now. He threw all of the used items into the garbage and then shut the kit.

“Well, you’ve trained enough already.” He shoved the kit aside and patted the space in between them, waiting. Keith looked at it, then at Hunk, confused. 

Holding back a big grin, he decided to take things into his own hands and, careful to not graze over his wound, pulled him into a hug. Keith didn’t seem to know what to for a moment. He dropped the arm that was around his waist and his hand fisted at the sheets, before eventually, it came to rest on Hunk’s shoulder.

It was the biggest hug Keith had ever given him. He ruffled his hair, smooth and fluffier than one would expect. Keith breathed in loudly, then rested his cheek on Hunk’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Hunk said automatically, because it felt like he was supposed to be comforting him. Even if Keith hadn’t explicitly asked for it, Hunk could feel the way his shoulders untensed when he brushed his fingers through his hair. 

After that, it was easy to fall into the motion of touching Keith’s hair and listening to him breathe. They hugged for what seemed like forever, Hunk’s gaze travelling between the wall and the top of Keith’s head, but he didn’t mind. 

Eventually, Keith pulled back and smiled at him, and for some reason, Hunk felt proud.

***

“Morning,” Shiro yawned, setting his usual cup of coffee down on the table. “Keith here?”

“Not yet,” Lance said nervously. He played with his fingers, peeking over his shoulder every few moments at the entrance towards Keith’s room. “I was thinking, maybe we should hold an intervention.”

“Isn’t that a little drastic?” Hunk asked, looking down at his food. He didn’t feel like eating, though, until he saw that Keith was okay.

After their prolonged hug, Keith had nodded at him before taking off. He wondered if he’d gone back to train or not.

“Yes, it is.” Shiro sipped at his coffee. It was already half-empty. “There will be no interventions today. Or ever. But I’m going to go find him after breakfast. I don't want him to get seriously sick if he—”

“If I what?” A voice interjected, and all three of their heads turned to the door. Hunk broke into a big, toothy smile.

Keith still looked pretty awful, but his skin had regained some of its usual glow, which meant that he had slept. His hand was bandaged underneath his gloves. 

“If you keep avoiding us,” Shiro finished. “Coffee?”

“Sure,” Keith said and stood in front of Hunk. He stared at him for a few seconds before Keith pointed towards the couch. Hunk realized what he wanted and shifted to the side, making room for Keith.

“He lives!” Lance said triumphantly. “I thought I’d never see your mug again.” 

“I wish I didn’t have to see yours,” Keith shot back. One minute and they were already back at it again. Hunk couldn’t contain his happiness.

Shiro set down a cup of coffee in front of Keith. They nodded at each other, a silent exchange of words that even Hunk didn’t understand. There was a lot of history there that Hunk didn’t dare touch, but with the way that Shiro’s eyes crinkled, their telepathic communication seemed to go well.

Keith relaxed against the couch with his coffee, his shoulder pressing against Hunk’s. 

“Now that Keith-O is back, all we need is the mighty Pidge and we’ll be complete again.”

“First of all, that’s offensive to Allura and Coran.” Keith narrowed his eyes over the rim of his mug. “Also, Keith-O?”

“It’s a nickname, you know, like—” Lance gestured at the air vaguely. “It’s just a thing people add to names! I don’t know.”

“Well, don’t call me it.” Keith hid his smile by taking a sip of his coffee. “My name is Keith.”

“Like you’d ever let me forget.”

“I’m not the one who constantly brags about their achievements.”

“I don’t constantly brag about my achievements, I do it at appropriate times—”

Shiro caught Hunk’s gaze from across the table and smiled at him. 

***

“What did you say to him?” Shiro asked as they wiped off the dishes together. Someone had to do it; today was Hunk’s turn, but Shiro asked to pitch along, and he wasn’t about to say ‘no’ to some company and help.

“The same thing as you, I bet,” Hunk answered as he set down another clean plate. “Just that it wasn’t his fault.”

“Hm.” Shiro’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Shiro said slowly. “Just thinking. Well, whatever you said, it worked. Pidge messaged me saying that he went to speak to her after breakfast.”

Hunk blinked, gauging Shiro’s reaction. He was difficult to read on a good day, but he couldn’t tell what he was thinking at all, now, and whether it was good or bad. Maybe he was upset that he hadn’t been the one to bring Keith out of his funk, but Hunk doubted that. Shiro wasn’t a jealous person.

“I think you should go find him again later,” Shiro continued.

“Huh? Why?”

“You helped him bandage up his hand, right? It’ll need to be changed.”

“Oh, right.” Hunk furiously wiped off Lance’s dirty plate. “Good idea.”

The way Shiro smiled, though, made him think it was about something else entirely.

***

While on his way to find him, Hunk crashed into Keith. Literally.

“Ow—” He cringed when Keith’s elbow hit his stomach. “Sorry—Oh! Keith!”

Keith blinked at him owlishly. “Sorry,” he said. “I was looking for you, actually.”

“Me too,” Hunk said hastily. “Looking for you. Not looking for myself.”

Smiling, Keith took a step back. “I figured.” He nodded towards his room, where he had just stepped out from—Hunk’s original destination. “Can we go inside?”

“Sure.” He followed Keith into his room. He’d only been inside it one other time, but it was the exact same as he remembered. Clean, with everything sorted and neat. A far cry from Hunk’s room, but it suited Keith perfectly. “You go first,” he said before Keith could insist otherwise.

“It’s not a big deal,” Keith sat down on his bed, placing his hands on his lap. “I just wanted to say thanks. For helping me.”

Hunk sat down directly beside him. Keith didn’t move away; instead, he glanced over at him, and Hunk could tell how difficult it was for him to speak up. Not that Keith was an ungrateful normally, but the workings of friendship were still new to him. Hunk took everything in stride, grabbing Keith’s good hand and lacing their fingers together, trying to ease his worries.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled at him encouragingly. Keith visibly gulped.

“What did you want to say?” Keith asked. His palms were beginning to get clammy.

“I just wanted to check up on you,” Hunk shrugged. “Maybe change the bandages if you hadn’t already.”

“I did.” Keith held up his other hand. “It was difficult, though.”

Hunk’s eyebrows raised. It was almost like a backwards way of asking for his help. Keith’s cheeks hollowed. 

“I can do it on my own, it’s fine,” he added, backtracking, but Hunk squeezed his hand, not letting him.

“No, no, I can help! Not now, but later, when they need to be changed again.” Hunk threw his arm around Keith’s shoulder. “You don’t need to be afraid to ask for help.”

“I am not,” Keith puffed out his cheeks. Hunk found it oddly cute. “I’m not afraid,” he said, as if Hunk’s word choice was offensive.

He leaned into Hunk’s chest, grumbling. 

“I want to do better,” he mumbled. “I feel like I haven’t done enough yet.”

“What do you mean?” Hunk frowned.

“Like—the Galra are still out there. I should be fighting them.”

“I’m sure it’ll happen within the next few days.” Instinctively, he stroked over Keith’s head. “But you shouldn’t overwork yourself, y’know? We need you. You’re not expendable.”

Keith peered up at him through his bangs. Hunk had never actually looked at him so closely before. His skin was impeccable, even if it was still shallow from lack of sleep, and his eyelashes were absurdly long. 

Mostly, though, he was distracted by Keith’s lips. 

“Yeah,” Keith said, like he was distracted too. He bit his lower lip. “I don’t know. It’s just the feeling I get. I can’t help it.”

He shook his head, shoving the sudden, and frankly, confusing, thoughts about Keith’s lips away from the forefront of his mind. “There’s no Voltron without our Red pilot.” He went back to fluffing his hair. “Don’t get yourself killed. In the battlefield or here. That would make all of us very sad.”

“Just sad?” Keith laughed lightly. “Doesn’t seem very appropriate for a friend dying.”

Hearing Keith refer to him as his friend spread a warm feeling throughout his heart.

“I’d cry,” he admitted.

“Well,” Keith let go of his hand to pat his thigh. “You don’t need to cry, because I’m not going to die anytime soon. And I won’t let any of you guys die either.”

Hunk’s lips quirked upwards. “Geez, thanks.”

Keith mirrored his grin. “Thank you, Hunk,” he repeated.

Hunk had a feeling Keith was thanking him for something other than his joke. But before he could figure out what, Keith leaned in and half-nuzzled, half-kissed his cheek. He gaped like a fish, slapping his hand over his now burning red cheek.

“I need to go,” Keith said, standing up. “Don’t make a mess in here if you stay around.” His own face was bright red, but his voice wasn’t shaking.

When he shut the door behind him, Hunk pressed his face against Keith’s pillow, imprinting the feeling of Keith’s lips touching him—of Keith’s open, unabashed affection, friendly or more.

He was starting to understand why Shiro had smiled at him so cryptically earlier. He found himself smiling too, breathing blissfully into the pillow.

Everything would be fine.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! please let me know what you think by commenting or messaging me!
> 
> talk to me on tumblr! http://koizumi.tumblr.com


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